Once Upon a Time
by The Book Queen
Summary: You know how the typical Disney fairy tales go, right? All fluffy and happy and usually full of romance... Well, this is very much the same; cute stories with happy endings. Just a bunch of random things to make you smile... Or cry, depending on the mood I'm in for writing (sometimes, Disney can get a little sad). You might get something sad or fluffy, but it's all tied to romance.
1. Chapter 1: Sweet Treats on a Lazy Sunday

**Hello everyone! I have decided to post everything I write for the Lorien Legacies ship weeks thing on Tumblr here, so, this will have a bunch of different one-shots per pairing. This first one's about John and Sarah. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Lorien Legacies.**

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><p>"Oh my goodness, John! What happened?" I look up to see Sarah standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking around, horrified.<p>

"Uh, I tried to cook," I explain sheepishly, rubbing my arm and looking down. Sarah is my partner in this new class, a cooking class, which my dad forced me to sign up for. At first I was elated; I've crushed on Sarah for years. Then, I figured out I can't cook.

I tried to explain it to Dad like this: So imagine there's a T-rex. And this T-rex has to bake a cake. But, there's one problem: It doesn't know how to cook because, well, it's a dinosaur with a brain the size of a pea (Sam told me that's not true, but whatever. I still think it is). And this T-rex also has to wear big, bulky oven mitts, making it even harder to grab things.

This T-rex, like all other T-rexes, has a tail. And that tail gets in the way. So, whenever this T-rex turns around to get something, it knocks something else over, creating a huge mess.

That's basically my cooking style in a nutshell; I'm the T-rex.

But the T-rex decided to take a cooking class, and it was partnered up with a graceful angel. This angel is the polar opposite of the T-rex; it never knocks anything over, it has beautiful, steady hands, and it is probably the smartest creature the T-rex would ever come across.

Sarah is the angel, the perfect, gorgeous, golden-haired angel. And I'm the clumsy, dumb, ugly T-rex that the angel has no reason to ever notice.

"You were cooking?" Sarah asks, incredulous. "It looks more like you were ambushed by ninjas and had to fight them off using the various pots and pans half filled with cake batter. How do you even get cake batter on the ceiling?" She sighs, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry I ruined your kitchen, I-I'll clean it up for you," I say, starting to stand up. Sarah carefully makes her way over to me, trying to avoid the spill on the floor.

"It's okay, I can help you." Sarah reaches down and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. She claps her hands, taking another look around. "So, where should we start?"

…

It takes about an hour for us to completely clean the entire kitchen. When we're finished, Sarah decides to help me try to bake another cake, even though there's probably a 90% chance of this ending up in just as big of a mess before.

"Don't do it so hard," Sarah interjects before I crack another egg. "Here, let me help you." She takes my hand gently and taps the egg on the edge of the bowl. After that, she guides me in pulling the egg apart, smiling as I gasp when the egg splits effortlessly in two, not a single piece of shell getting in the bowl.

"Witchcraft," I whisper. Sarah giggles, taking the eggshells and throwing them in the trash.

"Now you try." I do as she says and take another egg, attempting to do what she did. It takes me several tries, and almost five eggs, but I manage to crack an egg the right way without messing it up. "Great job!" she congratulates, patting me on the back. I beam.

"What now?" I ask, turning to face her.

"Now we combine it all and mix it." Sarah grabs the bowl of flour and other ingredients and a mixer. She plugs the mixer into the wall, smiling at me. "Do you want to mix or pour?"

"I'll mix," I say, not sure if this will be easier than pouring or not.

It's not, but I eventually get the hang of it. "Hey, I think it's working!"

"Yeah, look at you!" Sarah exclaims. "At most of it stayed in the bowl!" I grin, turning to face her. Sarah apparently has the same idea because soon our faces are inches apart and Sarah is pressed up against me.

"Oh, um…" I stutter, turning red. Sarah looks away, blushing too.

"It's okay, I mean…" the two of us stand there awkwardly, Sarah rubbing her arm. "Uh, John? Do you, um, maybe want to go out… on a date? Sometime? Y-you don't have to, but…"

"I-I'd love to!" I blurt, turning an even darker shade of red (I wasn't even sure it was possible until now).

"Really?" the most beautiful smile appears on her face and I can feel my heart flutter.

"Y-yeah." I look down, scratching my head. Sarah tilts her head to the side, considering something.

"So, if we're going on a date… can I do this?" I'm about to ask her what "this" means when she leans forwards and kisses me on the lips quickly. After she pulls away, Sarah laughs at my expression, completely at ease once again. But, when I don't respond, Sarah's smile falters and I snap back into reality, nodding eagerly.

"Yes, yes that okay. You can, um, do that." The smile returns.

"Thank goodness!" she exclaims, kissing me again. "Now, where were we?"

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><p><strong>I really like these ship weeks, I'm excited to write out everything.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbye

**This wasn't the original Navrina one-shot I was planing to write, this one has a totally different idea and is much shorter. But, I'm still working on my other one. And since I've decide to post all the stories I post on Tumblr on here, here this is. I apologize, this one's sad. I think I'm going to have to change the description for this story.**

**This is a zombie apocalypse AU. I've seen quite a few of those lately and decide to write one myself.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters.**

**WARNING: Character death.**

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><p>"Go, Marina it will be okay," he says, his hand tightly grasping mine. I shake my head feverishly, tears budding in my eyes.<p>

"No it's not! You-you're infected!" I cry. Naveen tries to smile, but we both know it's fake.

"I know," he whispers, his brittle smile crumbling. "But I still have some time left. You have to get back to camp before I turn."

"What will you do?" I ask, my voice wavering. Naveen looks down.

"I don't know. I think I'm going to kill myself before I turn." Now he's crying too. I pull him into a hug, the two of us sobbing as we squeeze each other tight. "You have to leave soon."

"I know." My voice is barely even audible. When I lean back, I brush some of his curly hair out of his face. " I know," I say a bit louder.

"I know you do," he mutters. "This apocalypse has been going on for years, you know how to survive. Get back to New York, back to the camp. They'll take you in."

"I'll miss you." I start to cry again. Naveen hushes me, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Shhhh, it's okay. It will all be okay," he soothes. The peacefulness doesn't last for long. "Go, go now!" I get shoved back onto the dirt. With my hands shaking, I rub the wetness off of my cheeks and stand up, followed quickly by my dying partner.

"Hold on." Before he can push me away further, I kiss him. He kisses back but pulls away almost immediately.

"Marina, you have to go, _now_."

"I know." I sniffle, wiping my eyes again with my dusty sleeve, cracking a weak smile. "Goodbye, Naveen."

"Goodbye, Marina." We hug one last time, and just like that, I'm off, sprinting in the direction of the city. I don't look back, but I can hear his gun clicking, the sound echoing in the silent night.

Then, _bang_.

Now I allow myself to cry. Yet still, I don't look back. If I do, I'll see his dead body lying motionless in the desert. That's one sight I never want to see.

As the orange sunlight starts to peek over the horizon, I relive some of my favorite memories of Naveen.

"_Happy birthday, Marina!" he sings in unison with all of my other close friends. Blushing and grinning, I thank them all for the surprise party. When the gifts are brought out, I can't help but gasp when I see Naveen's. In comparison, Stanley's art supplies, Maren's pocket knife ("You never know when you might need it," she had said. It's ironic how I actually do need it now), Ella's beautiful paining of my dead aunt Adelina, and John's cookbook were nothing compared to the simple golden ring Naveen gave me. _

_When he knelt down on one knee, holding out the ring, there was a chorus of "awwwwws" and "oh my goshes". _

"_Marina," he said, his emerald eyes sparkling. "I've been waiting forever for the right time to reveal itself so I could ask you this. Over the years that we've been dating, I've realized that there is no other girl on this planet I could possibly want to spend the rest for my life with more than you. Sometimes, you alone are my sunshine to wake up to in the morning. And for that, I am eternally grateful. And so… here it goes. Will you marry me?" I was so happy I almost forgot to reply, and what came out was more of a squeal._

Tears stream down my face as the memory plays itself in my mind. I'm smiling and sobbing at the same time; it's a strange feeling.

By the time I reach the New York Zombie Apocalypse Resistance Camp, or the NY-ZARC, the sun has risen high in the sky. I'm dehydrated and on the verge of passing out. I still manage to find the strength to push the button and answer the person who responds.

"Name?" the voice crackles from the radio.

"Marina Garcia," I croak, leaning against the wall. The doors grind open and guards and medics rush out to tend to me, but I'm already falling to the ground with darkness clouding my vision. The last thing that comes to my mind as I pass out is the memory of kissing Naveen under the fireworks after he had put the ring on my finger.

_Goodbye, Naveen. I'll miss you._


	3. Chapter 3: Against All Odds

**Hey guys! I'm sorry this isn't a Navrina one-shot or a _In Sickness and In health_ update, but I got this request from i-am-a-multi-fandom on Tumblr and had to write it. It's a Sam/Six fic. I'm sorry it doesn't fit with the ****ship weeks. I just had to write it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything from the Lorien Legacies. But, this is an AU, so it's not like I'm stealing anything except maybe the characters.**

**WARNING: there's a bit of child abuse in here, but it's nothing terrible.**

**So, without further ado, enjoy!**

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><p>"Wassat?" Sam looks up from the paper in his hands to address the young girl standing in front of him. They're about the same age but, compared to Sam, the girl is filthy. She sticks her dirt-covered hands into her tattered pockets, leaning forwards.<p>

"My homework," he replies tentatively. His mother had told him about people like this, the people who were poor. She said they were stupid and disease-ridden. To Sam, though, this girl about his age standing in front of him with a bright curiosity didn't seem very dangerous.

"Wass homework?" the girl asks, sitting in front of him and looking at the pages. "Oooh! 'S covered in squiggles!" Her stormy eyes have gone wide with awe and fascination. Sam watches her with a small smile on his face, amused. He expected her to have some speech difficulty since she grew up in the slums where no one really learns to talk properly. That and because of the fact that she's missing a couple of teeth. She doesn't seem to be able to say the letter T. Maybe she can, but not very well, from what Sam can tell.

But there's something else beneath that amusement: confusion. Doesn't she know what these 'squiggles' are?

"Squiggles?" Sam asks, voicing his concerns. "Don't you mean words and numbers and letters?" The girl squints at him. Then, she breaks into a wide grin.

"Oo can read!" she exclaims happily. "I haven't met anyone oo could read!"

"You can't read?" He stares at her, trying to see if she's just kidding with him or not. How could someone _not_ know how to read? Especially for someone that's her age.

"Nope!" she laughs, leaning back then rocking forwards. "There ain't nobody in my town that can read!" That's when an incredibly dangerous idea comes to Sam's attention. It goes against everything his mom had taught him.

Eventually deciding to go against his mother's warnings, Sam chooses to open up to the girl and become friends. "Do you want me to teach you?" The girl's eyes light up.

"Yes!"

…

By the time the girl leaves to go for supper, Sam had taught her letters A-F of the alphabet including how to say them. She had also told him her name: Maren. He had written it out for her and Maren had squealed in delight.

"Mama!" she calls, swinging the ramshackle door to their hut open. "I'm home!"

"Come help me wit supper now, girl! You's late!"

"Yes Mama."

As she stands in the kitchen, helping her mother cook, Maren starts to absent-mindedly talk about her day.

"He was very nice, Mama. He teached me 'bout readin!" Maren scrubs her hands with the bar of soap, trying futilely to get the filth out from under her fingertips.

"What did he do now?"

"He teached me 'bout readin," she repeats. "I now know letters A through F." Her mother drops what she's doing and grabs Maren by the shirt, pressing her back into the counter. Maren gasps, her eyes widening in fear.

"Don't you ever go 'bout that reading shit, you hear me? You is not allowed to read, got that? 'S illegal, you gon get killed for dat." Maren is shaking now.

"O-okay, M-mama," she stutters, teary-eyed. "I won't evah do it again. I promise."

"You better not," her mom mumbles. "Or else you's won't be allowed back in this house."

…

The next day, Sam heads back to the same tree with his schoolwork in hand, sitting down in the cool shade. The dusty air tingles in his nose and makes his mouth as dry as sandpaper, even after he takes a drink.

But, he shrugs it off. He has to meet Maren again, has to teach her more. He'd been looking forward to it ever since they'd said goodbye. But, at the designated time when the sun is high in the sky, Maren doesn't come.

When the sun starts to lower towards the western horizon, Sam starts to grow worried. Where is she?

Just as he starts to lose hope, he sees her standing behind a bush, watching him.

"Hey! Maren!" he calls out, feeling hurt and deflated when she shrinks back fearfully. "What's wrong, Maren?" She slowly makes her way over to him.

"You can't keep teaching me," she whispers hoarsely. "Cause I could get in trouble."

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Sam says, setting his books aside. He starts to pack up his things, ready to go, when Maren stops him.

"Wait! I don't say go away!" she cries, grabbing his hand. "I still wanna learn, but I can't," she mutters. Sam looks around them; the coast is clear.

"I could still teach you, we could even do it secretly," he suggests. "But you'd have to tell no one, alright?" Maren nods, getting excited again.

"Okay!"

"Come on," he urges, pulling her up. "I have a secret hideout that nobody but me knows about." Maren giggles, eagerly following.

…

Later that night, Maren goes home jumpy and excited. She and Sam share a secret, one that no one knows about. It's exhilarating, breaking the rules.

"Hey Mama! Hey Papa!" she greets her parents, skipping into the house and into the kitchen to start her chores. Usually, she tries her very hardest to not do them (they're not fun). But, because she's so happy about her lesson with Sam, she doesn't care.

"Hey, Maren," her mom says with narrowed eyes. If she suspects anything, she doesn't say it out loud.

This continues on for months. Maren would go about her merry business, sneaking off to Sam's secret hideout when possible. They had moved on from the alphabet and words and into grammar and punctuation and writing. Because of the grammar lessons, Maren's speech started to improve. She started talking with proper grammar and writing words when she could. She sounded more like Sam than ever before.

"Hello mother, hello father," she says to her parents after a lesson. She beams inside at the way she talks; Sam would be so proud. He parents don't look happy though, and their glares dampen her mood.

"Maren," her mom starts. "We needs to talk."

"About what?" the younger girl asks. Her father pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply.

"We think you gone against our rules and leaned wit that boy you's been visiting," he accuses. Maren takes a startled step back. _Oh no_. With a furious expression on her face, Maren's mom walks up to her and slaps her. Maren falls to the ground, her cheek stinging.

"How dare you! How damn dare you go against our word!" Her mother shrieks, kicking her in the side. Maren tries to crawl away, but she can't breathe because the kick had knocked the wind out of her.

"Mama please!" she gasps, holding her side. Her mom kicks her again.

"I ain't yo Mama no more."

…

Sam wakes up in the middles of the night to a tapping sound on the window. _Ping. Ping. Ping. _Getting up to see what it is, Sam wraps his robe around himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He has to be alert just in case it's a monster.

It's not a monster, but instead, it's Maren. The girl stands in the yard, tears running down her dust-caked cheeks. After hurrying up and climbing down the ivy outside his window, Sam runs to her side, hugging her.

"Maren! What's wrong?" he asks, rubbing her back soothingly and she sobs softly.

"My Mama beat me then kicked me out of the house," she sniffs. "I have nothing." The young girl then buries her face into his shoulder, a fresh wave of tears wetting his neck.

"Shhhh," he soothes. "It's okay, I'm here. I won't leave you."

"But I'm not allowed in your house," she mumbles, her lips brushing up against him as she speaks, leaving his skin tingling.

"You don't have to be, we can run away, you and me, together," Sam says out of the blue, surprising himself. He doesn't regret blurting it out, though. The longer he thinks about it, the more he actually wants to run away with Maren; run away to a place where Maren can learn without being punished.

"Really?" she whimpers.

"Yes, really." Sam starts to climb the ivy again, going to get the supplies they'd need on the run. As he climbs, he can't help but smile. Running away with just him and Maren, it sounds fun. There are so many opportunities.

After collecting food, water, bags and other necessities, Sam silently makes his way back to the window. Looking down at a hopeful Maren bathed in the pinks and soft oranges of early dawn, he decides that he's going to like this.

The two of them are going to make it, he's sure of it.

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><p><strong>Well, it's short, but I liked it. I hope all you readers did too.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Hide-and-seek

**Hey y'all! I'm back! I know I promised a longer Navrina fanfic but I've stumbled across some writer's block while trying to write it. Then, Saturday morning, I woke up possessed by the devil with the sudden desire to draw, so I did. Soon after that, I had a short Navrina comic that I didn't finish until I got new pens yesterday. And, because I felt like it, I wrote a short fic to go with it! If you want to see it just go to my tumblr and search Navrina or My writing or Lorien Legacies. It should come up (unless I tagged it something else, which is unlikely).**

**So, I know I'm also supposed to be working on my next _In Sickness and In Health_ chapter. I am, but I don't have the time to start writing it. I've got some ideas starting to form and I'll have it up probably over the weekend. Not only that, but I think I might bring my first story, _Innocence_, back. Do you think I should? If I get a good idea, I'll definitely write something (and since I've improved a bunch over the months, it'll probably be much longer than my other chapters. I still remember thinking about how everyone else writes so much with, like, 3000 word chapters; now I rarely write under 4000 words a chapter with the exception of one-shots).**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Lorien Legacies. If I was Pittacus Lore, Eight and the rest of the dead Garde and ****Cêpan ****would be alive, this would be an actual canon scene, there would be at least one canon gay ship (man, I love gay ships. I don't know about you but I love ships like Nive, Sirina and that new ship that popped up out of nowhere on tumblr called Malcolm/Henri. I already love the idea of that ship, just think about it!)**

**Oops, I'm rambling (and probably weirding you out). But I'm done now, so enjoy!**

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><p>"Hello?" I yell, making my way into the clearing. This is the fifth clearing I've come across in the forests here in the Himalayas. Earlier this week, Eight decided it would be a good idea to take a break and go camping up here. I have to admit, I love it. And I'm not the only one. Without being constantly chased by Mogs, I actually have a chance to relax and really enjoy the beautiful nature around me.<p>

We decided to settle in Eight's old home near that lake. As soon as everyone was set up, Nine forced us to all go out and explore the area. It was heartwarming to see him so excited; I have never seen that kind of look on his face. It was kind of shock when I first saw the bright, innocent-like joy that took over as soon as we stepped foot into the mountains. He wasn't kidding about loving camping.

John bough Sarah a camera before we came up for Sarah and she has taken pictures nonstop; some of them of John and the rest of us and some of them of the scenery. She told me that she's putting a scrapbook together.

When the war ended, Six and Sam decided it was time to make their relationship more serious. They've gone on a couple of official dates and spend a lot of time with each other. I'm so happy for them.

When One, Two, Three, Eight and all the Cêpans were revived, everybody had a joyful reunion. My relationship with Adelina has repaired itself and Adam and One are now dating. When I watch them, I can see Two and Three discretely looking at the other when they're not looking. It's adorable. The Cêpans aren't here now and neither is Malcolm. They've all taken a different trip to somewhere else to spend some time with each other.

"Eight! This isn't funny anymore!" I shout, spinning around in a circle. Eight suggested we play hide-and-seek in the forest and everybody loved the idea. After a while though, after everyone but Eight was found, the others gave up on looking for him saying that he'll come back eventually. I'm still looking, and I'm starting to grow more worried by each passing second.

I notice the slightest movement in the corner of my eye and whip around to face the bushes to my left. Squinting, I watch them closely to make sure it wasn't just my imagination.

Even though I was half expecting it, I still jump when the bushes rustle again. "Who is that?" I call out to whatever's behind them. It could be Eight. Instead of Eight, however, a small rabbit leaps out of them. Even from this distance I can see that it has emerald-green eyes and soft-looking black fur. It's the cutest rabbit I've ever seen.

"Omigod! It's so adorable!" I squeal, forgetting all about my hunt for Eight to make my way over to the animal. The leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk. "Hi there! I'm Marina!" I say to it as I sit down. The rabbit stares at me inquisitively, its green eyes unblinking. I reach out to start petting it. The rabbit almost seems to purr with pleasure as I massage its back. "You wouldn't happen to know where a boy named Eight is, do you?" That's when I realize I'm talking to a rabbit. It would make sense if I was John or Nine, but I'm not and therefore not able to talk to animals. Feeling stupid, I look away, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Of course you don't. I-"

After a quick pop, I suddenly find myself face-to-face with Eight himself.

"Eight!" I cry, falling backwards a little, my face more than a bit red now. He smiles.

"Hi Marina!" he exclaims lightly. It takes me a couple of seconds to find my voice again.

"What are you doing?" I ask, calming down.

"Um… I just wanted to do something," he says, suddenly sheepish and awkward.

"What?" Eight leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"This," he replies. I blush a darker shade of crimson.

"Oh." Compared to before, my voice is very weak. I should have expected him to do something like this. I should be used to it by now! Eight and I have dated for months. We got together soon after he was revived. But, even after all of this time, I still get flustered around him a lot more than necessary.

Eight pulls away, grinning, his face also pink. "And, by the way, I love it when you pet me like that."


	5. Chapter 5: Snippets Meant for Scrapbooks

**I'm back with another one-shot! This one is the Nilla one for the ship weeks. Now, I know that I should have posted a chapter for _In Sickness and In health_, but I've stumbled upon some writers block and sadly can't continue. I feel like I'm killing the chapter with bad writing, so, when I finally write something I like, I'll post it pronto.**

**This chapter feels a little choppy and, well, bad. But that's my opinion (I'm suffering from writers block in everything, but I had a bit of this one already down and I decided to finish it and post it in time for the ship weeks even though I feel like I could have written it much, much better). I think that was a run-on sentence.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Lorien Legacies characters.**

**Hope y'all like it!**

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><p><strong>The Day I found out Nine is (well, actually it's now "was") scared of Roller coasters:<strong>

I can't help but giggle as Nine trips awkwardly on the pavement. It's been years since the war ended and we won. We're celebrating Sandor's 33rd birthday today and, when we asked him where he wanted to go to celebrate, he sent a malicious grin at Henri and said, "Six flags." So now, here we are. We all went to the park near Chicago, which is where we've all been staying since the penthouse was rebuilt.

When we arrived, we went on some of the rides together as one big group. But, we split up after lunch. Right now, it's just Nine and me.

"That's one tall roller coaster," Nine says, gazing up at it in awe after regaining his footing. We watch as one of the cars begins its drop after finishing the slow start and reaches the top. The people's screams can be heard from here.

"Yeah," is all I can mutter back. Nine turns to me and gives me a grin.

"Let's go!"

…

The wait in line is long and boring. To pass the time, Nine and I tell each other stories and jokes we haven't told each other before. We don't mention anything sad; it's a happy day. Instead, Nine tells me stories of adventures he's gone on with Sandor when they were still on the road. I tell him about the adventures I had with Papa.

Before we know it, we're next.

The car screeches to a halt and one of the workers yells into the mic. "How was your ride?" Everyone screams a yes. With a joyous laugh, the man presses a button and the lap bars rise, letting the passengers leave. Then, the electronic doors open and I bolt through, practically bouncing. Nine is less enthusiastic, though.

I look back, wondering why he isn't following and see that his face has paled considerably. He looks like he's starting to reconsider riding.

"Come on!" I say, running over to him and pulling on his arm. Nine swallows and shakes his head.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know they restrained you like that." He lowers his gaze to the ground, embarrassed. I understand his reasons; ever since West Virginia, Nine hasn't liked anything that had to do with restraints. He's not even that big of a fan of seatbelts.

"It's okay, it's perfectly safe!" I try to convince him. Instead, he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Ella."

"Please?" I give him a puppy-eyed look. "For me?" I know he can't say no to the puppy eyes. Eventually, he gives in.

"Fine." I cheer and pull him onto the ride, putting our stuff in the cubbies. When I get back to the seat and sit down, I pull down the bar, securing it. Nine glances uncertainly at his and sighs, pulling it down too. After a worker comes to check and make sure we're safe, the ride is finally ready to start.

The car jolts as it starts moving and Nine flinches, grabbing the bar tightly and struggling. I reach over and take his hand.

"It's okay," I soothe. As we make our way up, I start bouncing in excitement. Upon reaching the top, I raise my arms, grinning and Nine shuts his eyes. We go down a little drop and I'm momentarily disappointed. Nine, however, blinks his eyes open.

"That's i-" he's cut off by the sudden change in altitude as we speed down the real drop, racing towards the ground. I shout with joy and, beside me, Nine screams. When we come back up to the first turn, Nine looks like he's seen a ghost and he's gripping the handles so tight his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, I'm laughing.

"Wheeeeeeee!" I scream happily, my hands in the air. By the time we reach the second turn, Nine is smiling and his grip on the bar has loosened. When we get to the end, Nine is laughing alongside me. At one point, he was even brave enough to let go of the lap bar.

The car screeches to a halt, jerking all of us forward. My hair is tousled from the wind and Nine's is a tangled mess. We're both laughing and smiling broadly. I look over at him.

"See? It wasn't so bad," I tease, hitting his arm playfully. Nine grins at me, attempting to run his fingers through his hair.

"You're right," he agrees. "Let's go again."

...

**The Night I woke up from a Nightmare and it turned out to be pretty good:**

I wake up thrashing frantically under the sheets of my incredibly comfy bed. Gasping, I clutch my chest in a futile effort to slow my heartbeat; my eyes squeezed shut. If it beats any faster I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack.

My dream-no, scratch that. My _nightmare_ comes back to me in bits and pieces. _The cave crumbling; Papa; Setrákus Ra caressing my cheek; walking with that monster through destroyed cities…_ I shiver, tears falling from my eyes. If I weren't alone in my room, I wouldn't dare cry in front of the others.

Well, I thought I was alone. But, when gentle arms embrace a soft voice whispers, "Shhh, Ella. It's okay. It's okay, I'm here," I nearly have that heart attack.

Letting out a small shriek, I try to jerk out of the person's arms. It takes me a second to recognize the person in the dark of the room with only the dim light of the hallway to illuminate them.

It's Nine. He's sitting on the edge of my bed, looking slightly offended that I pulled away like that. Immediately, I'm embarrassed.

"Oh, Nine. Sorry, you scared me." Great, my voice is shaking just as much as I am. At least it's dark enough in here to hide the blush slowly making its way across my face.

"No, it's okay. I should have said something. Sorry I scared you." He tentatively reaches forward to help me sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," I whisper hoarsely. He gives me a gentle squeeze and moves so I can rest my head on his shoulder as he lies next to me. The door shuts quietly, probably the doing of Nine's telekinesis.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. I nod. It takes me a little bit to realize he's waiting me to explain my dream. So, I do.

My voice wavering, I start to talk quietly, telling him everything. I tell him about the part in the cave and Papa dying and I also tell him about the parts with Setrákus Ra from the time when he trapped me inside that dream. By the time I'm done, I'm crying silently into Nine's shoulder as he rubs my back.

"Shhhh, don't cry. It'll all be okay, I promise. They're just dreams, they can't hurt you."

"Sometimes, it really seems like they can."

"I know what you mean." Now it's my turn to look up at him.

"What?"

"Um, nothing."

"No, what do you mean? Are you having nightmares too?" I'm aware that I'm probably making him uncomfortable with the questions, but I need to know. If he's having nightmare too, he needs to talk about it with someone. If it's not me, then it can be somebody else. But he at least needs to talk about it.

Nine squirms nervously. Eventually, he says, "Yeah, I'm having nightmares too. How could I not?" It comes out so quietly that without my enhanced hearing, I would never been able to make it out.

"Do _you_ want to talk about it?" I ask, praying he'll say yes.

"Sure, I guess." He takes a deep, shaky breath. "M-my dreams always start in West Virginia. They're torturing Sandor again, and I have to watch. It goes on for hours without stopping and, just when I can't take it anymore, they move on to me. I'm not sure what's worse: seeing Sandor tortured or being tortured and watching him scream at them to stop. I usually wake up after that."

When I glance at him, I notice his eyes are shining brightly with tears and his voice is strained with the pain. The weight of my nightmares and memories sits on my chest like a two hundred ton boulder and the new information about Nine's troubling dreams leaves a lump in my throat. I want to do something to make him feel better, but I don't know what. It's frustrating.

After a long while of just lying there in Nine's arms, I finally break the silence. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

"…"

"…"

"Hey Nine?"

"Yeah?"

I look him in the eyes, or, where I think his eyes are. "Can you, um, stay here with me for the rest of the night?"

"Of course."

"…"

"…"

"We should probably go to sleep now, it's getting late."

"You mean early?"

"Yeah, early."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I can't sleep."

"Um…" Nine's silent for a couple of seconds. "I could, uh, do something to help you."

"Okay, thank you."

"…"

"…"

"Well?"

"Sorry, I'm thinking. Wait! I got it!" he clears his throat and starts to hum, rubbing my back. After he goes through multiple songs, I start to feels my eyelids droop.

"It's working."

"Okay, shut up and let me hum to you. Uhhh…"

"…"

"Great, I forgot where I was."

"Sorry."

"No it's okay, I'll start a new song." This new one is a song I've heard before but can't name. It sounds almost like a lullaby. When he's about halfway through, he starts singing quietly in Loric. Oh, so that's where it came from. I don't have the time to inquire further because its gentle melody lulls me into a peaceful sleep.


	6. Chapter Six: Stolen Candies

**Hello again, here's the promised one-shot I mentioned I would post later (_wow, look at me, keeping my promises_). This is for the Loric Secret Santa, and it's for argentbanshees on Tumblr. She asked for a Jarah Hogwarts AU where Sarah is Slytherin and John is Gryffindor. When I was naming the chapter, the title was too long and it didn't fit, so, to clarify, this is not really supposed to be called _Stolen Candies. _It's supposed to be called **_**Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and The Girl That Stole Them.**_** But apparently that's too long to be a chapter title.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters.**

**Enjoy! And a Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!  
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**~  
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>-<strong>

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><p><strong>Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and The Girl That Stole Them<strong>

John Smith sits at one of the very large tables in the Great hall, a book lying open in front of him. Sunlight pours in from above, and fluffy snow drifts merrily down outside. It warms his hands and face, the only parts of him sticking out from the long Gryffindor robes. The room is mostly silent, probably because there are only six students in it at the time. The others have all left to go home and see their families for Christmas break. It's not like _his_ family doesn't want him; they're just busy. So, he's left at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, alone, as his friends have all gone home for the holidays.

It could be worse, he decides as he looks up and around at the other students. He could be _totally_ alone, just him and the teachers.

The very thought makes him shudder.

Just as he's about to turn back to his book, the potions one, the one he's living in, trying to catch himself up with the rest of the class (he's _horrible_ at potions, and, if he's honest with himself, he's surprised he's even _passing_ the class), a sweet voice interrupts him, "Is this seat taken?"

He looks up, his eyes involuntarily widening when he realizes the voice belongs to a girl; a pretty, blonde girl in Slytherin robes. His mouth opens a little, and he stares stupidly for a long while, before snapping it shut, mentally berating himself for looking like an idiot. Then, he fervently shakes his head, stuttering out, "N-no, of course not!"

She gives him a warm, heart-melting smile, and takes her seat by his side. Looking over at him, she says, "I'm Sarah Hart, and you are?"

"John Smith," he manages to greet, holding out a (sweaty) hand to shake. Sarah smiles and takes it, seemingly not noticing how sticky it is.

"You're in Gryffindor, aren't you?" she asks, turning back to her own books on the table. John nods again, staring. "I'm Slytherin, if you can't tell."

"You don't look like a Slytherin," he comments, blushing at how nervous he sounds. _Get a grip; she's just a girl. You've faced more terrifying things in Professor Quirrell's class!_ Hands shaking slightly, he turns back to the book of curses in front of him, suddenly not able to concentrate.

"Oh don't worry, you'll see. Just you wait." She winks, blue eyes sparkling. A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of her lips and she gives him a smirk, and he finds himself at a loss for words again. So, he turns back to the table, trying desperately to not look at the beautiful girl sitting right next to him.

It doesn't work very well, as he's staring at her once again within a minute.

But, after a while, he grows more comfortable, his shoulders relaxing and his posture becoming less stiff. His stomach rumbles, and he smiles sheepishly at the girl next to him, pulling a bag of candies out from his pocket.

Sarah's eyes widen at the sight. "Holy cow! That's a lot of candy!"

"It's from my friend, Sam," he explains, popping a few of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in his mouth, and then frowning, as he tastes grass. But Sarah's not really paying attention to him. She's too busy watching his candy, a single golden eyebrow raised at the sight of the delicious delights. Her mind seems to be working, gears almost visibly turning, and John is concerned for a second before she blinks and is back to normal.

"So, anyway, John…" she starts, leaning towards him. There's something in the way she looks at him that practically screams she's up to no good. "I was recently working on something, and I'd like to show you. Can I?"

"Uh, sure, what do you need?" he asks, leaning away from her and pocketing the candy as she grows uncomfortably close.

"Oh, nothing…" she trails off, tracing circles in the collar of his robe, before grabbing his cheeks with both of her hands and pulling him into a fiery kiss that leaves him warm and wide-eyed, a tingly sort of feeling on his lips.

It's over in a heartbeat; too soon, in his opinion. Then again, if it lasted for hours, he'd still say it's too soon. If he could, he'd want to live in that kiss forever.

"Whoa!" he breathes, sitting back, a dazed look on his face. He can feel his cheeks burning bright red, but he's too dazzled to actually care. He quickly shakes it off, however, when he sees Sarah gathering her things. "Wait!"

The Slytherin girl turns back to him, a sly smile stretched across her face. "Don't worry, we can continue this little… session… outside behind the Quidditch pitch later tonight, if you want." She gives him a little wave, before dancing away. "Goodbye John Smith, see you later! I hope you enjoyed your sneak peek!"

It wasn't until after dinner, as he sat in the Gryffindor common room, that he realized she had stolen his candies.


End file.
